


hey jackboot, fuck your war

by Otherworld



Category: Anthropomorfic
Genre: Angst, Bruises, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Porn Battle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:52:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otherworld/pseuds/Otherworld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Why does this always happen?” She wasn’t sure what he was asking, why people always seemed to turn against him, or why they always ended up together, whatever it was, she didn’t have an answer for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hey jackboot, fuck your war

**Author's Note:**

> I KNEW I WOULDN'T BE DONE WRITING STUFF LIKE THIS UGH. As usual, written for the Porn Battle XIV. But whatever, the pairing called me, I answered, plus, I use both, sooo...whatever. It's weird, and more about FEELS than sex, and I don't even know, haha. I hope y'all like this, and I hope I did a good job...BAH!

\------=------

It had felt like all the oxygen had left her lungs when she had heard about the attack on him. It wasn’t even a new thing, people were _always_ after him, long before she had even entered the business. But it was different now that she _was_ around, she had thought that maybe people would start to ignore him more, leave him alone and turn to her. And she had made it seem like it was just good business practice, sharing the market, old being discarded for the new. But it hadn’t been that, not entirely, she was really just trying to protect him. So why wasn’t it working?

Nobody questioned her or even looked her way when she rushed out of the building. It had started to become frighteningly common for her employees to see her leave like that. She didn’t have to think when she drove, instinct taking her to where she knew he’d be, where he always went after an attack. She pulled up into her driveway, turned off the engine, and scrambled out of the car, not bothering to lock the doors behind her. Once she actually entered the house, and stood in front of him while he was resting on her couch, she didn’t know what to say.

She had planned it out in her head, everything she was going to say to make everything _alright_. But seeing him all broken and battered changed everything. He looked startled, his one good eye blinking up at her in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my house.” She replied evenly, still unsure of what to do with herself.

“So it is, I guess I should go then.” But he made no move to get up, and she sighed.

“Christ, look at you.” She shook her head, taking in his appearance. His lip was split, he had a black eye, a bruise on his jaw, he held an ice pack to his left arm, and she didn’t know what else was hidden under his clothes.

He shrugged, barely stopping himself from wincing at the movement. “Same old, same old.”

“What was it this time?”

“You know, I just don’t think people are that fond of the whole Russia thing.” He gave a sardonic grin, ignoring his lip.

She gave another sigh, bone deep, before sitting down next to him, never losing her grace. “Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“I didn’t realize I’d been kicking my own ass, thanks for telling me.” There was a hint of amusement in his tone, and it just made her clench her hands into fists.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Why do you keep pissing people off?”

The blue in his good eye darkened considerably, and she regretted what she said, she knew what would come next. “I piss people off, huh? I guess they’re upset because they’ve got you now, you and all the other little wannabes. Yet, every time I make a move they don’t like, I get attacked, but they forget I was here first, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She just continued to be silent, her fists migrated to her skirt and curled into the expensive material. His rants weren’t anything new or unusual, he got like that after an attack, or when he felt like he was losing too much ground. “So clearly they still give a fuck, or it wouldn’t matter who I laid off, or where I relocated the business or any fucking thing else.”

She didn’t look at him when she finally spoke up. “People just miss how it used to be, how _you_ used to be.”

His jaw clenched, eye narrowing. “Good thing they have you then, right? You weren’t the first, but even I can admit, you’re the best, but you’ll never be as good as the original. All the little things they love about you, they forget you stole from me.”

Her head jerked up, gray eyes wide. He had never said anything like that to her before, and it stung, burrowed deep inside and burned. “I didn’t steal _anything_ from you, I just took what you discarded and made it better, and besides, if you didn’t want anybody to use it, you should have done something about it.”

He dropped the ice pack on her table, and made to stand up, wincing slightly at the pain the movement caused him. “Whatever, doesn’t matter now, does it? I’ll see you around.”

She winced, because the whole encounter hadn’t gone as she had planned at all, but she couldn’t just _give up_. “Wait.”

He turned to look at her, the beaten side of his face hidden in shadow. “Why should I?”

“Just...please, let me help you.” And there it was, she was admitting it to him, she just wanted to _help him_.

He laughed, and she could practically taste the bitterness. “Is that what this is about? You’re trying to save me, Red? Good luck with that one.”

She stood up and pushed him back down onto the couch, ignoring his grunt of discomfort. “I’m not trying to save you, I’m not trying to save anyone, you just need to know you’re not alone.”

He stared up at her, and shook his head. “All these years, and I still can’t understand you.”

“Just understand this then, I’m not leaving you, you always end up here for a reason, I don’t know what it is, and I don’t care.” She felt like she was taking in a breath of fresh air, she felt strong. “I idolized you, you know that? And I’m not just going to sit back and let you destroy yourself.”

He reached up towards her, taking her hand in his, and all of her previous strength drained out of her, and she knelt down at his feet, resting her head on his knee. “Christ, Drea, always trying to fucking protect me. Didn’t I always tell you to put yourself first, and everybody else second?”

She laughed against the denim of his jeans. “Yeah, well, that never stuck, and besides, LJ, it’s you, it’s always been different with you.”

He muttered under his breath, but she heard him anyway. “Stupid girl...” It was half an insult, and half a term of endearment.

She looked up at him, and even though he was still as beat up as before, he looked different, calmer, and she couldn’t help but slide her free hand under the hem of his shirt. His breath caught as her fingers ran along a fresh bruise, and he dropped her other hand, allowing it to push his shirt upwards. She silently catalogued new bruises and old scars, her heart aching for him again. He shivered when she pressed her lips to his skin, and he grasped her arm and tugged her up onto his lap. She stroked her thumb along his swollen eye, and he leaned into her touch. “You can’t protect me.” He murmured again.

“I know, I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” And she didn’t, even after they had put each other through so much shit, so many years, she still adored him, she was fairly certain she always would.

He sighed, tipped his head up to catch her lips with his, a soft, gentle kiss. It wasn’t what she expected, all the times they ended up together, it was always rough, angry, on both of their parts. He reached up to undo her bun, red hair cascading down her shoulders, her blouse was undone next, and he pushed it to the floor. “Why does this always happen?” She wasn’t sure what he was asking, why people always seemed to turn against him, or why they always ended up together, whatever it was, she didn’t have an answer for it.

So she kissed him instead, tongue running along his cut, tasting dried blood as her bra was tugged down her arms. Somehow along the way, she ended up beneath him, her hair a bright contrast against the snow white color of her couch. His shirt was off, the light playing against his skin, revealing the full extent of what he went through, but he ignored his own pain to pleasure her instead. His fingers slipped under her skirt, sliding against the smooth skin of her thigh, before pressing against her panties.

She sighed, arching up into the touch, her own fingers working on his belt, tugging his jeans down. It was ridiculous, that it always took some kind of pseudo-war for them to end up together, they both knew that, but neither knew how to stop it, how to fix it. They both shuddered when he finally slid into her, she was careful to mind his injuries, even if they didn’t seem to bother him, she knew better.

She met him thrust for hard thrust, as they merged together, his fingers tangled in the deep red of her hair, her mouth opened over the skin of his neck, adding her own mark to his collection. He whispered that she wasn’t so different from him, she never had been, that was what appealed to her in the first place. She just moaned, nails digging into his back, because she wouldn’t answer him verbally, wouldn’t give words to his truth. It was when he groaned that they were always better together that she came apart around him, the clench and pull of her made him spill into her.

She didn’t push his heavy weight off of her, and he didn’t attempt to move, she just curled her arms around his sweaty skin, pressed a kiss to his jawline. They didn’t speak, they didn’t need to, or maybe they just didn’t want to, it was getting harder for them to tell the difference. All she knew was that he scared her, he always had, from day one, everything he did and didn’t do. All the cause and effect, he needed her, even if he’d never admit it, that was okay with her. Maybe she needed him too.


End file.
